Lack of Credibility
by Desbelleschoses
Summary: Sequel to A Night Out. "Breda stood up from his desk and walked over to the coffee pot. 'You've gotta work on your believability. I mean, you started the whole story by saying you and Hawkeye went to a bar together. Alone. No way we're supposed to believe that.'" Rated T for amount of swearing. Oneshot.


**A/N: This is sort of a sequel to _A Night Out_ , but I didn't think it would fit well into that document, so I'm publishing it as a standalone. This one shot takes place the Monday after.**

 **Lack of Credibility**

"So I see this picture on her table, right? It's her and the chief. Pretty sure they were at that Madame Christmas' bar. The chief had to be, I don't know, eighteen? He still had fat baby cheeks, so it's hard to tell. I wish i'd've grabbed it so I could show you guys. He looks younger than Ed!" Havoc grinned mischievously at his captive audience. Roy and Riza had yet to arrive at the office. As usual, the betting pool had been established, with his own money on 'the chief lost the car keys again.' They had time to kill, and plenty of it. "Anyway, she starts telling me how the chief spun this story about saving some family who was about to get into a wreck, turning it into some act of heroism. Then she tells me it was all bullshit, and he almost got in trouble with the cops! Yeah, he saved some drunk guy who crashed at the wheel, but he made it a massive traffic hazard. I wish I remembered how she put it. It's way funnier coming from her. But anyway, that's when she told me the chief has a tell. So, we made a bet. I drank her under the table, but she never told me!"

"Man, you're so full of crap." Breda stood up from his desk and walked over to the coffee pot. "You've gotta work on your believability. I mean, you started the whole story by saying you and Hawkeye went to a bar together. Alone. No way we're supposed to believe that."

"I have to agree," Fuery piped up. "That doesn't seem like the first lieutenant. I watch Black Hayate all the time, and she never lets me in her apartment when I come to get him. I wait outside until she brings everything to me."

Havoc wrinkled his face in annoyance. "Whatever, man. Don't believe me. I won't tell you the rest of the story."

"Fine," Breda retorted as he emptied the last of the creamer into his cup. "Let's pretend that you're telling the truth. _If_ , and that's a very strong if, you saw that photo, and Mustang's as young as you say, that'd put Hawkeye at what, sixteen?"

"That's correct," Falman confirmed. "First Lieutenant Hawkeye is two years younger than both Colonel Mustang and Second Lieutenant Havoc."

"Right." Breda nodded his thanks. "So it's not like Hawkeye would have just wandered into the bar. Christmas doesn't let anyone under twenty-one through the door."

Fuery's interest was piqued. "That means she would have had to be there as a guest, right? Do you think she could have been related to one of the girls?"

"First Lieutenant Hawkeye is an only child." Falman was deep in thought, pulling out what little he knew about his commanding officer. "I believe that the general is her only relative. At least, he's the only one she has contact with. I've never heard her mention anyone else."

"Do you think she was there to visit the Colonel?" Fuery asked.

"Had to be. Havoc said that the colonel got in trouble with the cops, which means that she would have been there long enough to have him stop the car, lie about it, be found out, and for the cops to call him on it." Breda sat at his desk and took a long sip of his coffee. It was too early to use this much brainpower. "Assuming that Havoc is telling the truth."

"Why does everything I say have to be analyzed by you people?!" Havoc glared accusitorally at his colleagues. "Why would I lie about something this stupid?"

The room fell silent as each soldier tried to think of a reason. After a minute, Fuery was the first to speak. "So, how long have the Colonel and First Lieutenant known each other, then?"

"Well, that picture proves for a fact that they knew each other as teenagers." Breda determined. "Maybe Hawkeye's parents used to live in Central or something."

"I'm pretty sure that she grew up in the East," Falman mused. "She doesn't talk about it much, but I've heard the general mention it in one of his stories."

"Maybe her parents sent her to school here?" Fuery wondered out loud. "There are some boarding academies in the city."

Havoc snorted involuntarily, drawing the attention of everyone else in the room. "What?" he asked when he noticed that he was being looked at.

"What was that?" Breda asked.

"What was what?"

"You snorted."

"Yeah," Havoc was forced to admit. Covering his tracks, he suddenly asked, "If Hawkeye went to one of those schools, they would've turned her into some sort of proper lady, wouldn't they?"

Breda looked at him skeptically, searching for a crack in his facade. Finding none, he continued, "I guess so. But where's the link? You're from the East, right, Havoc? Is there something that could have brought the Colonel out there?"

Havoc shrugged, thinking that a nonverbal response was safer. Feeling eyes on him once more, he decided to pull out a cigarette. Maybe if he occupied his mouth he would talk less. It took two tries to get his lighter going, which drew Breda's curiosity.

"You know something."

"I know that we're not getting anywhere by blowing smoke like this," Havoc tried to add punctuation to his words by exhaling as he leaned his chair back on two legs.

"No. You _know_."

"How the hell would I know?"

"Well, seeing as you're all buddy-buddy with Hawkeye and all." Breda suddenly stood. "Hold on. None of us have seen the inside of her apartment. And you say that she just told you that story out of the blue. Hawkeye doesn't do stuff like that. She doesn't go out drinking with us, but she not only went with you, but got wasted on a drinking bet? After you just showed up at her place unannounced? Oh my God, you're sleeping together, aren't you?!"

Havoc lost his balance and hit the floor with a heavy thud, taking his chair with him. He hissed when he touched the back of his head; that was gonna hurt for a while. "Are you out of your damned mind?!" Havoc demanded as he set his chair upright. He dropped himself onto it and tossed his broken cigarette into the ashtray on his desk.

"Lieutenant Breda, you need to be quiet," Fuery implored. "If you shout like that, who knows who might hear? Lieutenant Hawkeye is his Commanding Officer; they could be court martialed if someone found out."

"I am _not_ sleeping with Hawkeye!" Havoc hissed, trying to keep his voice quiet.

"It's okay, man, we aren't gonna tell anybody," Breda insisted. "I mean, all those stolen girlfriend stories were starting to sound a little suspicious. You gotta work on your cover if you don't want get caught."

"Don't you think I would have said something if I was getting some of that?" Havoc demanded of his best friend. "That's not something I could keep my mouth shut about! Come on! We've all seen her."

Breda met his friend's eyes with skepticism. He took a moment to think Havoc's claims through. "I guess so. Besides, you're a boob man. Everyone knows Hawkeye's got hips."

"I am very uncomfortable with this conversation," Fuery protested, almost to himself. To his relief, Breda moved the conversation forward, with or without hearing him.

"But if you aren't sleeping together, why would she be so open with you?"

Havoc hesitated before deciding that it might be best to come clean. "Before my old man opened the shop, he was a traveling trader. Each year, he'd make sure to stop in Giribaz before he made it home to Aszamem. He'd tell me about this little girl who'd haggle with him in Cretan over his spices. He'd mess with her, starting at a high price but always making sure to give her a bargain. He still has that thick Cretan accent, and I didn't have a damned clue who 'Tay-ray-za' was. We met when my dad started dragging me along with him, to 'broaden my horizons' or some shit."

"Wait, so you've been friends since you were kids?" Fuery asked, hanging on his every word.

"Not really. I saw her once, maybe twice a year. Hell, because of my dad, I thought her name was 'Ree-za' for longer than I want to admit." Once he started calling her 'Ree', he never really stopped. "Then she was gone." He shrugged.

"What do you mean?" Breda pressed.

"Musta been '05, '06. She just sorta disappeared. No one knew where she went or if she would come back. It was '07 when the store was finished, so my old man stopped traveling. That was that." Havoc leaned back in his chair again. "I had no idea it was Hawkeye until a couple months ago. Go figure. My dad heard her in the background when he called the office, of all things. Weird how stuff works out."

"Wait a sec," Breda interrupted. "That picture had to have been taken before '05. There's no way in hell you don't know!"

"Why are you so obsessed with this?" Havoc eyed his friend warily.

"It's been bugging me since I joined the unit. I haven't been able to figure it out, and it's driving me crazy!" Fuery and Falman nodded their agreement.

Havoc took a second to weigh his options. Everything Riza had told him in the woods during the training exercise needed to remain confidential. But if he gave them nothing, they would never stop bugging him. He decided that saying what he knew on his own wouldn't hurt anyone. Mustang and Hawkeye couldn't get pissed about that, right? "All I know is that sometimes there'd be a black haired guy with her. He didn't say much, because Ree and my old man always spoke in Cretan. I didn't think a whole lot of it. Sure, we'd hang out sometimes, like when dad dragged me to a festival in Risembool, but, like I said, it was twice a year at most. After my dad told me he recognized Ree over the phone, I started to wonder. That photo sealed it. It was the chief, no doubt about it."

"But what would the Colonel have been doing all the way in Giribaz?" Fuery mused, asking no one in particular.

"No idea," Havoc lied. "Like I said, I met them in Risembool when I was, what, fourteen? I didn't care. How was I supposed to know I'd be getting the third degree from you guys?"

"Fourteen? Forget the photo. That means the lieutenant and colonel go back to when they were at least fourteen and twelve," Breda surmised, thumping his palms on his desk.

"Like I said, that's all I know."

The four men sat in silence, three of them processing this new information. Havoc knew that they wouldn't rat him out for telling them so little. Roy and Riza wouldn't care, anyway. Well, he hoped not.

"So," Fuery broke the silence. "Are you going to tell us the rest of your story, Lieutenant Havoc?"

Grateful for the chance to change the topic, Havoc enthusiastically continued his tale. "Right. So, the next thing I know, I wake up half-naked on Hawkeye's bathroom floor. I'm scratched to shit and I feel like I'm about to puke. Actually, I think I did. So I'm laying on the floor, and when I open my eyes, the freaking chief is standing in the doorway! I swear to god, I don't know if it was a hallucination or what, but I almost had a friggin' heart attack!"


End file.
